


a lot to think about

by fluffysfics



Series: rewriting history [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergent, F/M, Fluff, I swear I like Yaz but the Master is a bit mean about her here, Post-Episode: s12e02 Spyfall Part 2, alternative universe, inadvisable kissing, mild dubious consent, the Doctor and the Master are disasters, the TARDIS is protective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28075314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffysfics/pseuds/fluffysfics
Summary: The Master backs out of his grand reveal on Barton’s plane, and finds himself travelling with the Doctor and her fam.The Doctor is happier than ever, and the TARDIS is tenuously keeping his secret, but his conscience plagues him anyway.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Series: rewriting history [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064198
Comments: 14
Kudos: 84





	a lot to think about

For the third time in a row, the Master wakes up to a chameleon arch hanging two feet above his face. 

He lies flat on his back, and he glares at it. The Doctor’s TARDIS is not even remotely subtle in her intentions, and she never has been. Stupid, obtuse, _obvious_ giant blue box. He hates her. He misses the convenience of his own TARDIS. 

And yet, he’s very keenly aware that she hasn’t given him away to the Doctor yet. 

She wants him to do the decent thing without having to be forced into it, he knows that. She wants him to leave, or tell the Doctor who he is, or _properly_ be human so that there’s no risk of him breaking her hearts. 

The Master isn’t sure if he’s going to break her hearts even if he doesn’t make himself human. He’d had it all planned out- a dramatic reveal on the plane, banishing the Doctor off to some other dimension, confronting her a few more times before his plan came to fruition. She’d probably have foiled him in the end, but she would have come away from it shattered, and that was what had mattered to him. Breaking her, completely and utterly. 

And he’d had his chance. He’d intentionally slipped up about his running ability, and he’d seen the chance right there, and then- and then the plane had jolted, throwing them into turbulence, and he’d been able to shrug the comment off with a panicked remark about being under pressure. He hadn’t even known he was going to do it until the words were spilling out of his mouth. But months of texting, months of fond messages and phone calls and a real, genuine bond had flooded into his head, and suddenly he couldn’t hurt her. 

Taking care of everything else- mostly Barton, the Doctor had sorted the Kasaavin all by herself- had been easy enough. And now...he is Agent O, fourth member of the Doctor’s _fam_. 

He really, really hates that word. 

“You can see into my head,” he says flatly, gazing up at the ceiling. “Am I going to hurt her? Am I?” 

The TARDIS does not respond. A glass of water on his bedside table slowly slides off, and crashes onto the floor. 

“I said sorry for turning you into a paradox machine a whole bloody week ago,” he grumbles. 

Still no response. 

It was like arguing with a cat, the Master thought, which was ironic considering he was the one who’d spent a while as a cheetah. He rubs his hands across his face, and when he lowers them back to his sides, the chameleon arch is hovering mere inches above him. 

Scowling, he swats it aside, and sits up in bed. 

It would be easy to just use it. All too easy. Maybe ten minutes of pain, and then he’d have a normal human life. He wouldn’t have to hide his telepathy, his second heart. He’d never have to think about the secrets that the Time Lords had kept from them all. He’d never have to see the Doctor as anyone but the most wonderful person in the universe. He wouldn’t ever have to lie to her again for as long as he lived. 

Turning around, he glares at the chameleon arch. 

Ten minutes. 

Just ten minutes, and he could be happy. 

“O? You awake in there?” 

The sound of the Doctor’s voice sends an electric jolt through him- snaps him right out of his daze. The Master snatches the chameleon arch, yanking it free of the wires holding it in the ceiling, and throws it hastily under the bed. 

“Just about,” he calls. 

“Good!” The door bursts open, and the Doctor practically skips inside. She’s been in a ridiculously good mood since he came on board, a fact that does terribly unfair things to the Master’s hearts. “I brought you coffee. Well- Yaz made it. Said she tried to find you, and the TARDIS wouldn’t show her your room for some reason. Apparently she does that a lot? Hides your room. From her and the boys. Anyway. So. She asked me to drop it off for you.” 

Yasmin Khan is a strange girl, the Master thinks. Desperately in need of some positive attention from humans her own age, and possibly a good therapist. He’d flirted with her back at Barton’s party, just to see what would happen, and she seemed to have latched on a little. Although the Doctor is still her primary object of affection, he is very sure about that. Anyone could see it. Anyone except the Doctor. 

He takes the coffee, and smiles warmly at the Doctor, his fingers grazing slightly over hers as he pulls the mug back. “Thank you. And- I’ll thank Yaz later. She does a lot of nice things for me.” 

The Doctor regards him carefully through those endlessly deep golden eyes of hers. “She likes you.” 

Oh, so she _has_ noticed. Still playing the naïve innocent, the Master hums vaguely, and sips his coffee. “That’s good to know. She’s a good friend.” 

“She likes you like that giant space squid the other day liked Graham,” the Doctor clarifies, which is possibly the least flattering comparison she could have made. The Master spits a sip of coffee back into the cup, stifling laughter. Luckily, that could easily pass for shock. Time to play the flustered scientist. 

“She does? I- I mean, that...that’s, um...good for her, but I-“ He sets his coffee cup down, and starts fiddling with the blankets on his bed. “Oh, no.” 

Still watching him carefully, the Doctor leans forward. “You don’t like her back?” There’s an almost hopeful note to her voice. Oh, she’s _terrible_. Absolutely selfish, and greedy, and the Master adores her with every inch of his being. It’s almost easy to forgive her completely for who and what she is, when she acts like this. When she’s so obviously _his_. 

He shakes his head, and pretends like he can’t see the smug look of relief spreading across the Doctor’s face. 

“Don’t lead her on or anything,” she says after a minute, like she’s just remembered that she probably shouldn’t be playing favourites with her companions. 

“I won’t,” the Master agrees. “I- I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll...should I talk to her? Tell her I’m interested in someone else?” He blinks nervously at the Doctor, lowering his head so that he can gaze up at her through long lashes. 

Several emotions seem to happen to her all at once. He can see the Doctor struggling over what to say, figuring out the right and the wrong and the _good_ way to respond to that. 

“Yeah, you should talk to her,” she says eventually. Her fingers start to drum a rhythm on his sheets. The Master nods, and says nothing, and she drums harder. Faster. Tension builds like a cola bottle that’s been shaken up, and then the question bursts out of her. “Who else do you like? Is it Ryan? Graham? Isn’t he a bit old? It wasn’t the giant space squid from the other day, was it?” 

Stars above, she was _useless_ sometimes. Progenitor of the Time Lords, but she couldn’t call a spade a spade if it was sitting right in front of her, labelled ‘spade’. 

“No. I flirt best over text,” the Master says, and looks very pointedly at her. He shifts a bit closer on the bed, and leans in, gazing right into the Doctor’s eyes. 

He’d never be allowed to do this if he revealed himself. And he’d never have the confidence to do this if he subjected himself to the chameleon arch. If he became O, all of that shyness would become genuine, and he couldn’t break out of it to flirt with her. 

“Oh,” the Doctor says quietly. She leans in a little too. Her gaze flickers to his lips, and then up to his eyes- uncertainty darts across her face. Apparently he has to spell it out for her. 

“I like you, Doctor,” the Master murmurs. “Like the giant squid liked Graham. But hopefully less clingy.” 

Oh, he kind of wants Yaz to walk in now. Wouldn’t that be delicious, for her to see both of the people she likes, spellbound by each other? It would be almost more cruel than any plan he could ever have concocted. 

He leans in, tipping his head slightly to the left. His lips graze against the Doctor’s, just for a moment, and then—

And then the coffee cup he’d put down earlier flings itself violently off of his bedside table, shattering into smithereens against the opposite wall. Shards of china scatter across the floor, and there’s a messy, dripping starburst of brown across the soft lilac of his bedroom wall. 

They both jump, him more violently than the Doctor. He doesn’t even have to act that one out. The Master spares a moment to glare at the ceiling, and then he’s back to being wide-eyed, flustered little O. 

“I’m sorry,” he says hastily. “I’ll- I’ll clean that up. She doesn’t...I don’t think she likes me very much.” He bites at the inside of his lip, forehead creased in a frown. “I don’t know why. She’s _incredible_. Ridiculous. Absolute marvel of technology.” _Outdated, vindictive junk_ , he thinks privately. 

The Doctor beams, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. She never touches her other companions like this, he’s noticed. Just him. And she’s _very_ warm with him. 

If she’s smug about having his attention, he’s probably worse about having hers. And he doesn’t care even slightly. 

“She’ll warm up to you,” the Doctor promises, rubbing his arm. “She’s like a big old cat. Bit slow to trust sometimes. Keep telling her how cool you think she is, that’ll help.” Her eyes light up suddenly. “Ohh, I should take you below decks sometime! You can help me fix her! Always somethin’ needs repairing down there.” 

“Below decks, huh?” The Master grins. “Sounds...scandalous. I can’t wait.” 

The Doctor smiles, and tilts her head a bit, studying him. “Sometimes you remind me of an old friend. Enemy. Frenemy? Someone I was close to,” she settles on. “They would’ve said something like that.” 

Oh, if only she knew. The Master just hums softly, falling quiet and leaning a little closer to her again. 

“You’re not much like them though,” the Doctor continues. A shadow passes over her face, her hand slipping off his shoulder as her arms wrap around herself. “Yeah. Not much like them at all. I can trust you, O. An’ I really appreciate that.” 

She looks into his eyes, and a chill runs down the Master’s spine. The Doctor makes people want to impress her. Throughout all of her bodies, that has stayed consistent. Even when she was barely more than a child, he remembers hanging on to any praise he could earn from her. He’d thought he was immune to that effect now, after all of these long years of fighting and flirting and bittersweet rivalry. 

He is not. 

He nods solemnly, and rests his hand on the Doctor’s thigh. “I won’t let you down. I care too much for that.” 

The Doctor lets out a shaky sigh, and then she leans in and kisses him again. It’s unexpected- very much so- but it’s welcome, too. Warm, and comforting, and this time there are no more cups for the TARDIS to hurl at a wall. The Master can _feel_ her seething discontent in the back of his mind, but he firmly shuts it out in favour of lacing a hand into the Doctor’s wonderful hair and kissing her as intensely as he can. 

He breaks away after a couple of minutes, when a human would be getting out of breath, and makes blood rise to his cheeks. It’s not as hard as it usually is. “That was- oh. _Doctor_. I want to do it again. If that’s...if you want to.” 

“I do,” the Doctor says. She’s staring at his lips like she can’t quite believe they’re real. “I...no. Later. Later! I’ll kiss you then. Promised Graham we’d go see more deep space squid. And hopefully these ones won’t be all weird and kissy at him. You kiss much better than a squid,” she adds, as if that’s a fantastic compliment. “You coming?” 

“I’m in my pyjamas. I’ll catch up with you.” If he stands up, the Master isn’t entirely sure that he’ll stay standing right now. He’s very carefully not looking too closely at his own thoughts, but that won’t last when she leaves. 

“Oh,” the Doctor hums, clearly only just noticing this fact. “Right. Okay, fair enough. Come to the console room when you’re dressed, yeah?” 

“Will do,” the Master promises. He flashes the Doctor a smile as she stands up, and walks to the door. She looks relatively calm, but as she slips out of the door, he sees her face light up in a ridiculous grin, and sees her start to jump up and down. 

She’s older than the universe, potentially, and she’s acting like an excited teenager after a very successful first date. 

He has long since given up on trying to deny that he loves her. 

The Master reaches down under the bed, pulling out the chameleon arch. It would take him thirty seconds to hook it back up to the wires in the ceiling. He turns it over in his hands, the cage of metal that can make him human, make him never have to worry about lying to the Doctor ever again. All of this angst and anxiety, gone. 

He lifts it, touches it to the top of his head. And then he shudders. He’s a coward. He has always been a coward. It’s not the pain he’s afraid of; it’s that if he becomes human, he’ll be so fragile. He could die at any moment. And that would hurt the Doctor so much. 

He doesn’t want to hurt the Doctor like that. 

A chill runs down his spine at the realisation. The Master glances up at the TARDIS ceiling. She’s gone quiet all of a sudden. He can’t say he’s surprised about that. 

“Stop shoving this in my face,” he says, lifting the chameleon arch, and then he bends down to shut it firmly in the drawer of his bedside table. He’s going to get dressed now, and he’ll go adventuring with the Doctor, and he has no idea what will happen after that, in this vast, uncertain future he’s suddenly found himself swimming in. He’s far out of his depth, and there are undoubtedly vicious sharks circling below him, ready and waiting to pounce on any sign of weakness. 

The Master has a lot to think about. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this idea in two hours and I don’t quite know how, it just...hit me? so yeah, I hope you liked it, comments and kudos are very very much appreciated, I want to know if I should do more in this AU... <3


End file.
